Work Text:
His dear brother is standing in his kitchen cooking a steak.
Brian has been here dozens of times before, Dexter has no doubt about that, he knows his way around the house too well. But this was the first time they had been here together.
They had just returned from their first murder together. Brian said that this guy had raped and killed a couple of people. Dexter didn't bother to check if he was guilty; he knew Brian disapproved of his code, but despite that, he believed his brother completely. This was unusual for him. But with Brian back in his life, Dexter learned a lot of new things about himself. Not all of it pleased him.
With the appearance of the Ice Truck Killer, he had already noticed an unusual reaction in himself. Undoubtedly, his work was magnificent. These neat cuts and the complete absence of blood could not fail to arouse Dexter's admiration. True art.
Then the games, messages, and gifts began. His dark passenger couldn't ignore the attention. Dexter was showered with love. His head was spinning like a high school girl watching the football captain pluck up the courage to ask her out on a date. He couldn't believe his luck. And then not only his mind but also his body began to respond to all this attention.
Dexter certainly did not anticipate this reaction. All similar experiences had been during adolescence or when women had insisted on it, but it did not bring him pleasure, and he had to pretend that he was satisfied.
He felt unusual, to some extent... it was more pleasant than his previous experiences, but he still didn't like it, didn't like losing control of his body. This feeling was something new, something closer to ordinary people. But that's impossible. Dexter is not human, he has known that for a long time.
Dexter sat at the table with a bottle of beer and looked at Brian. His brother seemed to be deep in thought and made no attempt to strike up a conversation. Dexter watched as Brian moved smoothly around the kitchen, finding everything he needed without any trouble, his muscles tensing under his gray sweater as he cut the meat, holding the knife with professional skill.
Dexter remembered how, a couple of hours earlier, he had watched his brother cut up the man they had just killed together. How his blood-stained gloved hands had cut off his limbs so precisely, so gracefully... A dark jacket, sleeves rolled up above the elbows, bare skin where tension was visible. Dexter wanted to touch that patch of skin.
Then the boat. Dexter watches Brian again. Moonlight falls on his dark curls, his face, his clothes. He has to admit, his brother is too handsome in the moonlight.
“I still can't believe you're here.” Brian breaks the silence and pushes Dexter out of his thoughts. He turns his face and takes a step forward. “I was constantly told that I would never see you again and that I should forget you.” His voice changes, his tone becomes heavier. Brian raises his hands and places them on Dexter's forearms, slowly, they tremble slightly, as if he is afraid that the person in front of him will turn out to be unreal. “I was lonely because of that.”
His pulse quickened, and Dexter could have sworn he had never felt so... impatient? But he didn't understand what he was waiting for, or didn't want to understand.
Brian continued to stand close to Dexter, quickly studying his face and lightly touching his forearms. “It was as if a piece of my flesh had been torn away and they refused to give it back. They said, ‘It will be better this way,’ but the wound continued to bleed.” Brian's hand slowly slid upward and stopped at his neck.
Brian's palm was too close to his pounding pulse. Dexter thought he was about to burn up, which made his brother's hands seem cold. Now Brian was looking him straight in the eye. The moonlight reflecting off the water shimmered beautifully in his eyes. His gaze was lighter than it had been a minute ago, and his lips were stretched into a barely noticeable smile. Dexter had to clench his teeth harder to make sure he wasn't standing there with his mouth open.
“But now you're here.”
Dexter felt Brian begin to close the distance between them. Everything inside him tightened.
Maybe now...
Brian wrapped his arms around his back and pressed himself close to him.
He hugged Dexter.
“You're finally with me.”
Dexter exhaled. He wasn't sure if it was out of disappointment or relief. He raised his arms and hugged his brother back.
What had he been expecting?
***
It's well past midnight. Brian is sitting on the sofa, Dexter is sitting next to him with his feet up on the table, which is covered with dirty plates from their steak dinner. Some late-night show is playing on TV, the sound is off, no one is watching it, they are both lost in their own thoughts.
“Brian,” Dexter says suddenly.
Brian grunts.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.”
Dexter shifts a little. “Those murders...”
“What?”
“I'm still thinking about them, even now. You put a lot of effort into recreating all of that. I'm very grateful. But... do I have to give you something in return?”
“Oh, Dex, nothing material, your presence is the best reward for me. I can't blame you, my works are truly magnificent, they're hard to get out of your head.”
“No, Brian... They weren't just memorable, I've never felt anything like it.”
Brian chuckled softly and took a sip of beer from the bottle. “I wonder what feelings they evoked in you, little brother?”
Dexter remained silent, the last of his common sense refusing to answer that question, but his dark passenger, having completely lost its mind after three bottles of alcohol, screamed for him to tell.
He's your brother, you need to be honest with him. His work was magnificent, he won't judge you. It's real art, but not everyone can understand it.
Dexter felt a shiver run down his spine.
But you understood. Your reaction is completely normal. You are one of the few who can see the beauty in his works, so share your feelings about it. Or maybe... you reacted not to the bodies, but to the thought of who created them?
Dexter had to shake his head to get rid of these thoughts.
But something irreversible clicked in his head.
He turned his head and looked at his brother. He was staring at the TV screen, but he hardly seemed interested in the show.
He's right here. The one who made you feel better just by giving you his attention, more than anyone else in your life.
Thank him for everything. He deserves it.
Suddenly Dexter rolls over and finds himself kneeling on top of Brian. His hands are braced against the sofa on either side of his brother's hips, and their faces are only a few inches apart.
Brian froze, shocked by Dexter's action. He could feel his hips pressed against him and hoped his body wouldn't start to respond to the pleasant warmth and pressure in his groin. And to the thought of who was creating it.
“You know... Your work is real art.” Dexter raised his hand and began scratching the inside of Brian's elbow with his fingernail, imitating a cut. “These cuts, so graceful, so delightful, this complete absence of blood, dirty, sticky blood, gave charm to all these bodies.” He looked up from his hand and looked at Brian.
“Dex, i'm glad you liked it...” Brian tensed, afraid to move and rub against Dexter's thigh, knowing that would be the end. But he didn't want to push him away; he was too curious about what his brother meant.
"I couldn't stay at the crime scenes because I could feel you, feel your presence, it made me breathe differently, feel differently. Your work made my mask slip." Dexter began to move closer to Brian's face and stopped a few inches away. He could feel his brother's ragged breathing, the smell of alcohol and menthol. He looks into his open eyes, his pupils dilated. His gaze drops lower and stops at his lips.
“You've driven me crazy.” And then Dexter closes the distance completely and presses his lips against Brian's. Their teeth almost touch.
Brian has to freeze for a moment before he finally relaxes and responds.
Dexter's breathing quickens as he begins to feel his brother harden. He had achieved his goal.
Dexter pulled away. He looked at Brian, at his wet lips, swollen from the bites. His eyes looked calmer. They looked at each other until Dexter abruptly slid off Brian's lap and positioned himself between his legs.
“Dext- What the hell are you!?” Brian almost shouted his name. He definitely hadn't expected this.
Dexter shuddered and sighed. He looked down at the noticeable bulge in his brother's pants. “Biney, I can... please.” The words were barely audible.
Brian couldn't believe what was happening. His brother was kneeling between his legs and asking... for what?! Damn it.
He would be lying if he said he didn't like what he was seeing. Brian was thrilled. But let his little brother ask for a little more.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Biney. Please!” Dexter looked up with the most pleading eyes he could muster.
“You never cease to amaze me today.” Brian smirked and spread his legs wider.
Dexter immediately perked up. He looked like a puppy who had finally been allowed to have a treat. Settling himself more comfortably, Dexter slowly placed his hand on his brother's fly, pulled it open, and carefully removed his pants along with his boxers. Brian's cock was now just a couple of inches from his face.
Dexter swallowed and felt his own arousal twitch in his pants. It was definitely bigger and thicker than his. He immediately remembered that he never thought he would find himself in such a situation. He had to recall all the porn he had seen at a young age.
He put his hand on the base and slowly moved his face closer, licked the pre-cum that was oozing out, then took the head in his mouth and began to move his head up and down.
“Fuck.” Brian moaned. He put his hand on his head and tangled his fingers in his blond hair. He didn't take his eyes off Dexter. The way he awkwardly tried to please him looked adorable. He wanted to push down and make his cute little brother choke on his cock, but it wasn't worth doing, maybe another time.
Dexter looked up at his brother. His eyes darkened with lust and something else, and his lips stretched into a crooked smile. His older brother was definitely up to something.
Brian leaned back on the sofa, still not taking his eyes off him. He shifted his position slightly, slipped his leg under Dexter's, and pressed his shin against his long-hard groin.
It was to be expected, Brian loved to take control of the situation, he realized it immediately. Dexter flinched at the unexpected contact and whimpered. He wanted to pull away, but Brian's strong hand in his hair prevented him.
“Come on, I'm sure you've been turned on for a long time, you need this.” Brian's voice became low and velvety, he almost purred, trying to cheer up his little brother, his hand in his hair no longer squeezing, but gently stroking.
A shiver ran down Dexter's spine. Hesitantly but obediently, he began to rock his hips, rubbing against Brian's leg, while continuing to shake his head.
“Good, Dexy. Well done.” Brian was breathing heavily. Dexter's warm, wet mouth felt amazing on his cock, as if it had always been meant to be that way. He looked at that flushed face, how his eyes glistened with tears, how they looked at him and how aroused their owner was, how saliva, probably mixed with his pre-cum, dripped from the corner of his mouth, how that body rocked back and forth and his head up and down. All of this brought Brian closer to the end.
Dexter felt the pulsation of the cock on his tongue intensify.
“I'm coming, goddamnit...” Brian's moans grew louder. He grabbed Dexter's hair again, but this time painfully, pulling him completely toward him and moaning as he spilled into his throat.
Dexter closed his eyes, resisting the coming cough and trying to take every drop, he swallowed the liquid.
Finally, Brian loosened his grip and pulled Dexter away, a small drop of semen still running down his chin.
After a while, Dexter put his brother's pants back on and climbed onto the sofa next to him, still breathing heavily.
Brian's head turned toward him, examining him. His face was still a little red, his lips wet and swollen, his mouth slightly open. His gaze darted lower, to the wet spot on his jeans.
“Wow.”
Dexter looked down at his pants. “I don't remember when that happened...” He sounded confused.
“You were so preoccupied with me that you didn't notice your own climax? That's so sweet!”
Dexter was too exhausted to respond.
“So... I don't understand what you meant by all that?”
“I said ‘thanks’, I believe.”